Unshed Tears
by Pachamama9
Summary: Astoria finally confronts Draco about the abuse he received from his father. One-shot.


**A/N: Astoria asks Draco out, but Draco rejects her. When she asks why, this is his response.**

 **Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #387 (Can't mention anyone from Gryffindor house)**

 **If You Dare Challenge - #833 (Hard not to cry)**

 **Character Diversity Boot Camp - #14 (little), Astoria Greengrass**

 **200 Different Pairings Challenge - #31 (Draco/Astoria)**

 **Build A Zoo Challenge - Chimpanzees (Astoria Greengrass)**

 **Disclaimer: Queen Rowling owns everything.**

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"Astoria," he said, her name gentle and sweet on his lips. "I'm not a good guy. You know that."

She gave him a death glare so strong that it nearly melted him on the spot. "Draco Malfoy," she growled. "Don't you dare let me hear you say that ever again!" He was shocked by the intensity in her voice. She was serious. She walked right up to him and shoved her finger into his chest. "You were a bad kid" —Draco mumbled in protest and then stopped, slumping beneath her accusations— "that's for sure. You bullied everyone around you, including me and your friends and even some of the teachers. You went through rough patches where your pain turned you so cold and cynical that you couldn't see how good you could become!"

"Astoria," Draco interrupted. "I'm a Slytherin. I—"

Her anger switched back on. "I'm a bloody Slytherin, too, Draco, but that doesn't make me Lord Voldemort!"

Draco flinched violently at the sound of his former master's name, so much that he nearly tripped backwards. "Asto—"

"Sorry." She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "But being in Slytherin does not make you evil, do you understand?" Draco nodded, but Astoria knew that he was only agreeing with her to stop her from trying to convince him otherwise. "When we were little, you embraced Slytherin." She ran her fingers through her hair. "And not the good part," she added. "You thought it gave you an excuse to do bad things. But it wasn't. Your father was. " A flicker of confusion ran across Draco's face. She didn't think he'd ever heard this from anyone before. "He gave you the initiative to bully everyone in that bloody school because he bullied you."

"My father didn't—"

"Yes, he did." Astoria couldn't understand how he didn't see it. Perhaps, he did, and he just denied the entire thing. "Draco, your father abused you.

At first, Draco's entire face hardened. Then, he scoffed, "Astoria, my father's never laid a hand on me. have you ever seen a single bruise on my face?"

Astoria knew Draco. She knew every single expression he had and what they meant. She knew that every time he lied, his brow relaxed and his mouth was firm. Now, she knew what he was thinking. She knew. "Draco," she said, "I've never seen a bruise on your face." His shoulders relaxed. He thought he'd gotten away with his deception. "But I have seen the ones on your legs."

She had never seen this expression on his face: vulnerability. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He thought she was only guessing. He thought that she didn't know.

"You know what I'm talking about," she replied simply. He'd been hiding this for far too long. "I knew you were lying when you said you fell."

His eyes were stormy grey. he gritted his teeth. "Astoria, it was nothing. I fell off of my broomstick practicing Quidditch, remember?"

"We both know that's a lie, Draco." she said. "That broom would've had to have grown a brain and beat you half to death to give you those kinds of injuries."

"You're making something out of nothing, honestly," Draco assured her. "It was nothing, really—"

"Don't you say it was nothing!" This time, Astoria exploded on him. "Draco, I saw the way you feared your father! I saw the way he treated you! I heard him call you stupid, lazy, arrogant, cowardly" —he flinched— "traitorous, mistake, weak, and idiotic, all in the span of a day!"

"Asto—"

"Draco, please!" Her voice had softened. Her hand was now on his shoulder. He tried to brush it away, but she stayed put. "I know that only his cane could make that kind of mark on you." Draco was practically shaking with emotion, trying to hold it all in, so she framed his face in his hands. "I could hear you when you came down to the common room to cry at night so no one would hear you. You fell asleep one night in sixth year before you could finish bandaging, so I did it for you."

"It's none of your business—"

"Of course it's my business!" she cried, and then she tried to take back her loud words when she saw his reaction. "Of course it is. You're my best friend, Draco. Of course it's my business."

He stared at the floor, a man with the memories of a child. He opened his mouth. For a few moments, nothing came out. "You knew?" he whispered.

"Yes." She didn't know what else to say. "I knew."

His body twitched a bit, and he leaned over as if he were going to vomit, his arms wrapped around himself. "Do you hate me?" he choked out.

Astoria, shocked by the question, answered quickly. "No, Draco. Why would you think that I—" She stopped. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm a bully." Silence followed before he spoke again, for Astoria did not know what to say. Those were her words he was repeating now. But she hadn't meant— "Because I'm a traitorous, stupid, idiotic, arrogant—"

"Draco, no, you're not—"

"—lazy, cowardly—"

"That's not what I meant, I—"

"—pretentious, mean—"

"Draco, you're not—"

"—cruel, weak—"

"Draco, stop!"

Finally, the youngest Malfoy looked up, his entire body tensed and his eyes looking like broken glass. His fists were clenched and his nails dug into his palms. His eyes were shining, but he was also biting his lip. Astoria knew that all of these tiny actions meant that he was trying his very best to keep himself from crying in front of her. He never cried in front of other people. Or at all.

He wasn't allowing the tears to come. She thought that holding back his cauldron of tears caused him actual, physical pain. "Just cry, Draco," she murmured, her hands moving to his. She traced the indentation in his palms that he had previously told her was the result of a broomstick. "Just cry."

He was shuddering with the effort now. "Father told me never to cry—"

"Screw your father," she said. "He never did anything good for you." She realized, now, that being part of the Malfoy family had destroyed him. It had demolished his soul and obliterated his spirit.

Draco Malfoy began to cry.

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 **A/N: Please favorite, follow, and review! Thanks!**


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